Under the influence

Amber

When I came down from the building where I lived, I saw that Kris was actually waiting for me downstairs in his car. It was a flashy, fire-orange sports car that simply cost a few million dollars. He opened the car door for me and waited for me while smiling. He was handsome, a young man with clear eyes and tanned skin, a muscular body, and good looks for the cameras. His face was symmetrical and heartbreaking. I also smiled at him as I approached him. He and I were the perfect standard celebrity couple.

"Hey, my boo. You look stunning as always,” he said, pulling me in for a light kiss.

"Did you like it? I got ready for you,” I told him, twirling on my own feet to show him my look—the charming and passionate smile always evident on my face.

“You rocked it, I loved the dress and the color combination. It looks amazing on you,” he replied, touching me affectionately.

“Thanks, babe. You're wonderful,” I said, getting into his car. In fact, it was all an act; a paparazzi was hi